Wetsnap

A tough season in which you might need a little extra antiseptic assistance, whether mental or physical.

Ms. Jerri left a top seat at Interpol under a cloud but with her head held high: “It’ll pass,” she writes primly in a personal email. “Nothing but a trifling wetsnap.”

“We’re packing for Armageddon,” BooBoo pronounced as he dumped sand out of his shoe. “Marcy, round up the H2O, SPF30plus, wild-sourced grits, a pair of good tweezers and plenty of first-batch Vitamin D in case we hit a wetsnap. I’ll go hotwire the neighbor’s Volvo.”

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